From a distance I saw Stephanie gazing at a rose. I am not sure what caught my 
attention, perhaps the way she absorbed herself in the flower but I knew better, 
something made her strangely alluring to me. 

She sat there in the wheelchair, looking like a broken angel, while holding her 
crutches in her hands and her broken leg extending in front of her. They 
suggested that she use the wheelchair in the cemetery since it was so uneven. 

She sat with her back straight in her wheelchair and with her right leg in a 
long plaster cast resting on the leg rest. She was wearing a black skirt with a 
lovely purple blouse. The black pantyhose tightly caressed her left leg from her 
toes to her waist. She was wearing a low open toe heel.  I saw her touching the 
pantyhose while listening to the priest.

I loved to look at her broken leg. Her strong legs always looked great in 
pantyhose while wearing 5inch heels teaching at school but the cast covering her 
right leg was perfect. The doctor made sure to keep the shape of her leg. Her 
right leg and foot was in a white plaster cast from the bottom of her foot to 
way pass her skirt. There was a slight bent at the knee, forcing her to use 
crutches at all time.

Her hair was flowing over her shoulders like water. Her lips moved, as if she 
was moaning when she moved her broken leg. I listened. 

"You can moan My Stephanie after what you've been through"

You see it all started 3 weeks ago...

------------------------------------------

"Where?"

"Just go on highway 50"

Stephanie eased the Beamer out of the garage and onto the street. The steering 
wheel felt sick with her sweat. Stephanie gripped it tightly, just to keep her 
hands from shaking.

"Why are you doing this to me? Why did you kill my husband?"

"Don't pretend you don't know Stephanie. Your husband was my lover"

"No..that's impossible"

"Yes and when I told him I was pregnant he dumped me, the sleaze"

Al this time and I knew nothing of this. Never suspected him. He made me feel 
like a bad person from my online relationship while he was having sex with this 
young woman.

The road began to curve and wind through trees. Is this where they will find me? 
She wondered.

It may be my only chance. I can let her shoot me. Or I can go down fighting. 

She pointed the car on a straight course. Then she hit the accelerator pedal. 
The BMW roared. Vicky cried out no and clawed for the control of the wheel, 
undoing her seatbelt. A split second before they hit the tree sideways. 

Vicky was killed on impact.

The car was toppled over and over, windows shattered and Stephanie was flung 
against the dashboard. The car came to rest on it's roof.

It was the horn that dragged Stephanie back to consciousness. And the pain. 
Excruciating pain, tearing at her right leg. She tried to move and realized that 
her chest was wedged against the steering wheel. 

She pushed away from the steering wheel. The effort made her cry out of pain, 
but she managed to slide her body a few inches across the roof. For the moment, 
she rested, waiting for the pain in her leg to ease. The pain in her broken leg.

Then gritting her teeth, she pushed again and managed to slide through. She 
could smell the gasoline. Clawing for the window, new pain even more 
excruciating ripped through her shattered leg and flooded her eyes with tears.

All those years she wanted to have a broken leg or at least a recreational cast. 
Half crawling, half dragging her broken leg, she managed to squeeze through the 
opening. Her body rolled onto the ground. She closed her eyes and shivered all 
alone.

I heard the moan. That's when I found her, sprawled among the leaves, her broken 
leg twisted under her. Barely conscious. I gathered her up.

"Have to get her to a hospital" I yelled

That's the last time I saw her until today. Now you know why I'm so happy to see 
her looking so sexy in her chair resting the cast of her broken and... so close to 
me.

I looked at her lips; they were taut, but seemed to glisten, not from any 
lipstick that I could tell, it seemed purely natural. I couldn't help but stare 
at her broken leg. In her plaster cast I saw such a subtle beauty, a beauty that 
spoke not of makeup and fine salons, but a natural beauty, a native grace on 
crutches she was going to be.

I wondered what she felt when she moved her cast, a gentle swaying in an almost 
hypnotic dance. The dance of a woman that wanted this cast so much. 

I wanted to say something to her, ask her how she dealt with real pain, what it 
was to be partly helpless with this heavy cast on her leg, having to rely on 
this cast to keep her leg intact. Both her fibula and tibia were broken. She was 
going to be on crutches for months.

At the end of the funeral she shook her head, looked around, and slowly wheeled 
herself away. She caught my eye briefly as she left, then looked away and 
Disappeared out of sight. I wanted to follow her to see her use her crutches 
when she got back to the taxi taking her home. I wanted to say... to say 
something to her, but I froze looking at her operating her wheel chair like a 
pro.

There will be better time soon

I quickly walked away. I recalled in my mind the beautiful lady; how the cast 
and crutches made her look even better. 

Later my love..later you and me.

Part 2 to come